Changing His Armor
by Midorino Mizu
Summary: A possible reason for Duo Maxwell's change of wardrobe in Endless Waltz. Brief mention of 3x4.


A Change in His Armor  
  
A Gundam Wing fanfiction by Midorino Mizu  
  
The war was over.  
  
Oh, technically it wasn't over, technically there were still peace talks and debates and the bureaucratic red tape.  
  
But for Duo Maxwell, the war was over. And he was tired.  
  
Duo sighed as he dropped his duffel bag on the floor of what would be his last safehouse, a small, abandoned house on a colony he'd forgotten the name of.  
  
He wanted a shower.  
  
And then, he thought as he looked down at his black clothes, torn, bloody, and covered with dust, he'd want to change his clothes.  
  
But first the shower. He wanted to try to wash off the war.  
  
***  
  
The water was as hot as he could stand, and Duo stood under the spray for a good half an hour, letting the hot pounding water wash away all the dirt and blood, and all the pain that could be soothed away.  
  
There would, of course, still be pain, forever. He'd been a soldier, a reconnaissance expert at that, and some things had happened that he would never be able to wash away.  
  
Duo's eyes squeezed shut as he remembered some of them.  
  
Finally, after steam had filled most of the apartment, Duo turned of the water and stepped out and started the long process of re-armoring himself.  
  
He began with his hair. He toweled it dry, and then wrapped in a robe, began to braid it.  
  
He never blow-dried his hair, because it was just slightly wavy, and the application of hot air always made it.big. So he braided it while it was still damp, and left it that way most of the time.  
  
After his hair was done to his satisfaction, Duo finally stood up and left the bathroom.  
  
His usual outfit was draped neatly over a chair, exactly where he'd left it.  
  
Duo stared at it for a moment, then turned to the duffel bag that still sat in the entrance. He unzipped it, and started rummaging through the contents.  
  
Quatre had presented them each with a bag full of stuff after the last battle, claiming he was tired of his friends wearing the same thing, day in, day out.  
  
Duo snorted quietly to himself. As if the Arabian was one to talk-he'd been wearing that pink shirt everyday since Duo had met him.  
  
None of the pilots was exactly sure how Quatre had managed to get his hands on new clothes so quickly; the final battle had only been two days over when he'd brought them their gifts.  
  
Duo was personally of the opinion that Quatre had spent all of his free time during the war shopping.  
  
He stared at the contents of his bag, and his lips twitched. There wasn't much black.  
  
He supposed that was a not-so-subtle hint.  
  
The Deathscythe pilot pulled out one of the few black items, a pair of jeans that looked like they'd fit him closely, and a deep blue sweater that he imagined Quatre had chosen deliberately.  
  
Once, on a particularly boring mission, he and Quatre had amused themselves by critiqueing the fashion senses of all of the pilots.  
  
They had both tried to devise ways to rid Heero and Trowa of their respective green shirts permanently, but without any success.\  
  
And Quatre had told Duo, rather bluntly, that while he looked good in black, blue would be spectacular on him. It would bring out his eyes and skin.  
  
If Duo hadn't already known about the Sandrock pilot's relationship with Trowa Barton, then that statement, on its own, would have convinced him that Quatre was gay.  
  
He smiled a little at the memory, and pulled the sweater on. It'd make Quatre happy, at the very least.  
  
After he dressed, he carefully packed everything back in his bag, with the exception of one thing.  
  
He glanced over at the black fabric draped across the chair and stood up.  
  
It was time, he reflected, to stop showing the world his soul through his clothing. Everyone who was important knew why he'd spent the war in black priest's garb.  
  
He didn't need to anymore.  
  
When Duo Maxwell finally left the safehouse, it was empty.  
  
Except for a torn and bloodied black outfit that hung by itself it the bedroom closet. 


End file.
